


bruised purple with desire

by The_Wavesinger



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/F, Figging, Fingering, Gags, Humiliation, Pre-Canon, Under-negotiated Kink, Usually Powerful Character is Helpless Due to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/pseuds/The_Wavesinger
Summary: Minn-Erva ties Vers up, drugs her, and has her way with her.





	bruised purple with desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosecake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/gifts).

> Title is from Desire's Persistence by Jay Wright. (Thanks to a kind nonnie for the suggestion.)
> 
> Don't think too hard about the fact that the Kree have a drug that can disable Carol's powers. It's, um, an AU?

Vers blinks into awareness to the realization that she’s naked and tied up.

Tied up with _rope_, she realizes a split second later when she twists her wrists, and coarse fibres rub against her skin. She’s tied up with rope, which means—

But nothing happens.

She focuses, strains, and still nothing happens.

Her powers are _gone_.

She tries to curse, but she’s gagged with some equipment that’s forcing her mouth open, silver prongs pressing deep into her cheeks, some sort of bar keeping her tongue plastered to the bottom of her tongue. And the wetness on her chin is spit. She can feel her cheeks heating up, and she reaches to just try to pop off the gag. To do _something_.

But there’s a wall in her mind, somehow, and she just can’t push past it, can’t reach anything. She’s stuck. Blocked. Locked out.

“Ah ah.” Minn-Erva strides into Vers’ line of sight. She’s smirking, still fully clothed in her combat suit, and when she kneels down to Vers’ level, her smile is pure condescension. “This is training, Vers.”

This isn’t training, Vers wants to snap. She knows training. This isn’t training, and this isn’t any of their usual games either. The only reason she doesn’t is the gag holding her mouth open, making her unable to do anything but gargle out incoherent sounds.

“It wouldn’t be any use if you had your powers.” Minn-Erva tilts her head, almost sympathetically. “Don’t worry, the rest of us had to do this too. We have the good drugs.”

Come to think of it, Yon-Rogg _had_ said something about a surprise waiting for her. With one of his smiles that Vers has come to learn means he’s going to test her, and she’s going to fail.

Still. He didn’t say anything about drugging her. Or about sex.

She struggles against her bonds, lashes out, but all she gets for her efforts is wrists that sting and burn with rope burn. And Minn-Erva forcing her legs apart (without her powers, without her strength, she’s limp and weak and can’t even put up a struggle) and doing something with her ankles, which—

Suddenly she’s exposed, even more than she was before. Her pussy is wide open to Minn-Erva’s eyes, and she’s suddenly aware of every inch of her body, of the way her nipples tighten (not from the cool air; Vers is very into Minn-Erva, into her sharp smile, the way she flicks her head, and she’s not ashamed to admit it), the way her pussy is wet—not dripping wet, but wet. Minn-Erva’s seen all of it before, of course, but this, tied up and open and vulnerable, is different.

She tries to exhale slowly, and chokes on her own spit instead. The gag is positioned awkwardly; even swallowing takes effort, and her throat is tensed up and tight and she can’t get it to calm down and relax.

Minn-Erva watches her cough and choke with something approaching amusement in her eyes. When Vers manages to calm herself down, she reaches out and places a finger, almost delicately, in Vers’ mouth.

Vers gags out of reflex, even though Minn-Erva’s finger is a barely-there presence.

Minn-Erva doesn’t seem to care. She explores Vers’ mouth with probing fingers, swiping across the inside of her cheeks, over the roof of her mouth, dancing on her tongue. The sensation is strange. It _tickles_. Vers squirms, away from it or towards it she doesn’t know. It’s not like she’s got much choice in the matter, though. The ropes have very little give, holding her still, holding her in place, and she can do nothing but take it. The thought sends a deep thrill of embarrassment through her, embarrassment which seems to shoot straight to her clit.

Finally, finally, Minn-Erva lets up.

She wipes her hand across Vers’ tits, like she’s some rag, like Vers’ body is Minn-Erva’s to do whatever she wants with.

Vers bites back the moan at the thought, but Minn-Erva grins, and her eyes are knowing. Of course she knows; Minn-Erva always knows when it comes to sex, even if she’s oblivious in every other way.

And then Minn-Erva’s hand is suddenly trailing downwards, and she’s plunging her fingers into Vers’ pussy.

She doesn’t try to stretch Vers out, or go gently. She just plunges her fingers right in.

Vers pulls at her ropes, her back arching as much as she can make it. She’s pinned between Minn-Erva’s hand and whatever metal structure is behind her (she doesn’t have the energy to think about it right now, to figure out what it is, except for how the cool metal is a welcome contrast to the warmth of Minn-Erva’s hand and her own overheating body). She’s trapped, unable to move, _stuck_. All she can do is let Minn-Erva have her way with her, do with Vers’ body what she will, and the thought has her thrusting into Minn-Erva’s fingers, trying to get them to reach that little bit deeper.

But Minn-Erva knows Vers. She knows Vers’ body, and she just holds her fingers still and out of the way, letting Vers squirm and move, and it’s not enough, it’s nowhere near enough, and the occasional brush of Minn-Erva’s thumb against her clit only makes it worse, only makes her pussy throb and ache.

She reaches out, instinctively, to her powers, to get that little more, to get what she needs from a single nudge, and she’s almost there, but—

She can’t.

The wall is still there, and it feels like she’s run full tilt into it. And as she lies there gasping and panting, winded, Minn-Erva presses down on her clit, a firm pressure.

It’s cruel. A moment ago, that would have been enough, but now, Vers can only whimper, tight and overstimulated, Minn-Erva’s fingers still making her pussy burn and ache too much, now, far too much but she never actually got to come and it’s not _fair_.

She could almost cry.

She does cry, an involuntary sob that makes her cheeks flush, when Minn-Erva pulls all of her fingers out.

Then she’s pulling something out of seemingly nowhere, and it’s—

It’s something that’s vaguely phallic shaped. It looks like a dildo in shape, but none of their dildos have that weird dull texture or the strange fleshy color. And then Minn-Erva takes it out of the bag it was in, and the sudden sharp scent (a smell she almost knows, but not really) is nothing like the smell of any sex toy Vers has known before.

Minn-Erva shoves it into Vers’ pussy without any ceremony.

At first, it’s like any other dildo. But just as Vers is becoming comfortable around it, it starts tingling, and then—

It burns.

It burns, and burns, and keeps burning.

It’s a strange burning, hot and cold, that Vers has never felt before. It tingles and aches and it’s not the cream Minn-Erva loves so much, it’s a different sensation, sharp and tangy and almost familiar. (A snatch of laughter, a light kiss, gentle hands on her wrists—but no, she’s imagining things, don’t be silly, Vers.)

“Do you like it?” Minn-Erva pinches a nipple; in any other circumstance, if her mouth wasn’t so distorted, Vers would yelp. As it is, she makes a strangled, squeaky sound. “It’s from some far-away planet. Yon-Rogg brought it back on one of his solo missions, but I don’t think he imagined we’d use it this way. Although—” There’s a wicked glint in Minn-Erva’s eyes. “I might tell him tomorrow how much you enjoyed his gift.”

Vers burns with humiliation at the thought. Minn-Erva telling Yon-Rogg their exploits in excruciating detail, while Vers has to sit there and listen, gagged, maybe, or just ordered to be silent, and of course she obeys Minn-Erva like the helpless pathetic creature she is. Of course she lets Minn-Erva regale Yon-Rogg with stories of exactly how she looks like when she’s squirming and begging, when Minn-Erva is hurting her, when she comes, when she’s so close to the edge that she could—

Minn-Erva slaps Vers’ cheek. Hard.

“Not yet you don’t,” she says. “We’ve got a long night ahead, and you’re not coming any time soon.”

Vers whimpers.


End file.
